Measure of Men (1/6)

[monstrousregiment]

Title: Measure of Men (1/6)
Author: monstrousreg
Universe/Series: Reboot
Rating: all ages
Relationship Status: established
Word Count: 2799
Genre: friendship, outside pov
Tropes: friendship, outside pov, loyalty, disciplinary hearings
Warnings: none
Summary: Four years into the DS5 mission, Starfleet Command calls for an investigation regarding the nature of the relationship between Commander Spock and Captain Kirk. These are the interviews of the command core and their insights on said relationship. It seems Kirk's apparent delight in making Command's life impossible is contagious.
Notes: My first incursion into Star Trek fic, so I decided to keep it on the light side and not venture into Kirk's or Spock's head.

 

Hikaru Sulu is not a proud man.

He is not a proud man at all. He is not arrogant, and he is never smug. He is satisfied with who he is and that is enough. He likes his accomplishments, of course. He likes them even better when they mean he can use his abilities and skills to dodge a crisis or save a life. He learns things and skills for the pleasure of learning them and is certainly pleased when they later come to his rescue in a strained situation.

However, there are things he is proud of. 

He stands proud now, back straight and hands folded at the small of his back, chin up. He stares straight ahead to the irritated face of Admiral Komack, his own impassive and calm. He’s learned tricks from his smooth Vulcan Commander, and he is not above using them.

“You realize, Lieutenant, that you are violating Starfleet protocols.”

“I don’t do it out of insubordination, Admiral, sir. I’m guided by my sense of loyalty and what I believe is required of me according to my charge and station.”

“What is required of you, Lt. Sulu, is the truth.”

“I have not lied, sir.”

Komack waves his hand in the air dismissively.

“You’ve lied by omission.”

“No precisely, sir,” Sulu replies mildly. Commander Spock always says the key to understanding one another is precision in vocabulary.

“You’re picking up Kirk’s quirks now, too?” Admiral Chase arches a fine blond eyebrow, her green eyes amused but sharp.

Sulu is proud of being on the best crew of Starfleet, on the best ship. He’s proud of serving under the best Captain. Most of all, he’s proud of serving under James T. Kirk and Commander Spock. He’s also proud of the man he’s seen Kirk become, right in front of his eyes as he grew into his command. Spock’s helped, of course, everyone’s helped—it’s taken a village to raise their captain—but in the end, Kirk is the kind of man he wants to be, and they’re all proud of him.

Sulu allows a barely-there curl of his lip. “If you spent four years in space with him, Admiral, you would understand that picking up Captain Kirk’s, as you say, ‘quirks’, is unavoidable.”

“Indeed,” she mused, imitating his lip curl.

“What about unofficially, Lt. Sulu? What have you to say regarding the Captain’s and Commander’s behavior off the record?”

“Off the record, sir?”

“Completely.”

“If it’s unofficial, and it’s off the record, sir, it’s irrelevant.” He’d make Spock proud yet.

There is a moment of stunned silence.

“Did you just dismiss me, Lieutenant?”

“Not at all, sir,” Sulu replies evenly. “But I was informed this was a formal hearing in regards to the charges presented against my commanding officers concerning the infringement of fraternization rules aboard a starship. I wish that everything I say about this matter is kept in records, so that I can rest assured I’ve done my best to defend them.”

“About this, Lt. Sulu,” Admiral Archer pipes up, leaning forward and lacing his fingers. “You mentioned earlier that loyalty is required of you as a Starfleet officer, and of course I agree completely. However I would like to make the distinction between loyalty to Starfleet, and loyalty to your commanding officers. Starfleet should come first, Lt.”

Sulu frowns slightly.

“I understand that, Admiral Archer. But I ask you to understand my position. I’ve spent four years in space under the command of Captain Kirk and Commander Spock. In that time, several times my life has depended on them and as you can see, they have always come through for me.”

He hesitates, swallowing, searching for words. He knows eventually, if he doesn’t speak up to the contrary, Kirk will hack the mainframe and watch this audience, probably with Spock looming over his shoulder as he is prone to do.

Though he is at loathe to admit it, Spock hovers. He’s always hovered, but lately more than ever. Two months ago Kirk sustained injuries that left him at the edge of death, was unconscious for two weeks, confined to Sickbay for another two. When he first woke up, he didn’t remember who he was. It shot a hole right through Spock’s chest so big, even Sulu saw him tremble. Luckily Kirk had regained his memories within two days. But Sulu still remembers the way the Vulcan’s hands shook when he gently released Kirk’s, stepping away to give him space. He’d walked his Commander to his quarters and not mentioned anything about the way his shoulders shook, or the way his too-human eyes were fixed on the floor.

Sulu had debated whether he should allow his commanding officer his valued privacy, or simply go with his instincts to be there for a friend, to hold vigil with him in his pain.

Pasha and him had spent the night in Spock’s floor, curled up on the cushioned meditation mats, drowsy because of the scent of incense and the soothing roll of quite conversation between Uhura and Scotty while Spock sat cross legged at Sulu’s right. Sulu hadn’t slept, alert to Spock’s movements in case he was needed. He’d been watching the Vulcan through half-lidded eyes, thoughtful, when Spock finally opened his eyes and looked directly into his.

For the first time ever, that night in the floor, Spock had reached over and laid his hand gently, very gently, on the pilot’s shoulder, and left it there for a while. As if using the structure of muscle and bone beneath the skin and uniform to anchor himself in his meditation. Sulu had held vigil for him for a while yet, and only fallen asleep an hour before his shift. He’d woken up well into the afternoon when, in his dreaming, Pasha kicked his thigh.

He wants Kirk and Spock to be able to watch this audience and feel proud of him. Still, he reminds himself it is not them he is speaking to, but six Admirals intent of finding out if they have broken the rules and regulations.

“When you chose Captain Kirk to command your flagship,” he starts. “and decided to allow Commander Spock to be his First, clearly you thought that they deserved to be the faces of Starfleet. That’s what the flagship’s Captain is; that’s what he represents. You saw something there; call it potential, call it talent, give it whatever name you want. But there was something there.”

He smiles faintly, “On our ship we call it Kirk Effect. It’s kind of a centrifugal force. Captain Kirk has a kind of character that crosses the line from ‘charismatic’ and steps right into ‘gravitational pull’. I’m pretty sure that’s what you saw in him. That’s one of the things you first notice about him.”

“Charisma is not enough of an explanation to justify the fact that you value him more than Starfleet.”

“I wouldn’t put it in those terms,” Sulu replies carefully. “But I won’t lie to you. Yes, my loyalty comes to him first.”

“Again, Lt. Sulu, I have to point out that your priorities are skewed.”

“Admiral Komack, I don’t think you fully understand my position,” Sulu replies politely. “Starfleet is a vast military organization with outposts and starbases littered throughout the Universe. Though it has plenty of physical manifestations, well… the fact is Starfleet is more of an abstract in space, when you’re on a ship. Out there in the black, you focus on the little things. I understand what you mean about the difference between loyalty to the man and loyalty to the cause, but that’s an intellectual distinction that blurs over in a starship, in a voyage as long as the one we embarked on. I love Starfleet. I love the Federation. My work makes me happy.”

He takes a deep breath, tilts his head.

“At the end of the shift every day, though, on the bridge sitting on that chair, bruised and bloody and worse for wear, always looking worse than everyone else… that was Kirk, not Starfleet. It was Kirk that sky-dived off a drill in the atmosphere of Vulcan to catch me and save my life. It was Kirk that jumped right in front of the path of a bullet twice. Threw me out of the way when a beast charged us. Climbed down a cliff to grab me and pull me up when I toppled over the edge. That was Captain James Kirk. I owe my life to him a dozen times over. I love Starfleet. But my loyalty rests with him. I’m not sorry for that.”

The Admirals continue to stare at him silently for a moment that stretches into an eternity, and Sulu wonders if this is the end of the road for him. If he’s just tossed down his career and stomped on it with all the strength of a determination built by belief, fueled by faith.

Then again, James Kirk has given him his life, almost dying more than once to ensure he survived. What’s a career, compared to that?

“Lt. Sulu, to get back on track,” Admiral Chase says, not unkindly, “About the relationship between your commanding officers. Now I want you to answer these questions directly, and I hope you understand lying will be harshly reprimanded. Is that understood, Lt. Sulu?”

This is where the tricky part begins. Sulu will have to navigate his way around the answers without lying but without telling the exact truth. Dodge and deflect will have to be the strategy.

“Understood, Admiral, ma’am.”

“Did you ever witness any kind of unprofessional behavior between Captain Kirk and Commander Spock?”

Sulu thinks of brief glances and random smiles, the stretch of lips as reply to a thought sailing through a telepathic bond. But what are looks, what are smiles, to someone who doesn’t know them as well as he? “They have never been anything but professional in front of me, ma’am.”

“Did they ever touch in such a manner that might strike you as romantic?”

Kirk was a tactile creature. He often brushed his fingertips over Spock’s hand, laid his hand lightly on his shoulder. Then again—his hand had been on Sulu’s shoulder often enough, as well. He was a tactile creature in general.

“In my presence, he never indulged in any kind of contact that he couldn’t have indulged, and did, with me.”

“Did they ever refer to each other in a tone or with words that might imply a more-than-professional closeness to one another?”

Spock and Kirk are different with each other than they are with everyone else. The small nuances and mannerisms they share are private and small, details barely to be noticed. Internal jokes.

“They’re close friends. They don’t always speak like mere professional acquaintances. But I’m also close to the Captain, and tones he uses with Spock, he uses with me.”

Not all of them. There are tones that are exclusively Spock’s. But that’s not what they asked, is it? And they request no clarification.

Dodge and deflect. Pay attention.

“What about outside your presence, Lt. Sulu?” Archer presses, catching onto Sulu’s careful maneuvering.

Sulu frowns, “Outside my presence? I wouldn’t know.”

“But surely you have heard. A ship like the Enterprise, so long in space, rumors must be aplenty.”

Sulu refrains from rolling his eyes, “Yes, sir. I have also heard rumors about me deriving sexual pleasure from my plants. I can assure you, I’m quite certain that one’s not true.”

Chase grins. Komack ducks his head to hide his smile.

“I’ve heard similar rumors about you and Pavel Chekov, I admit,” Admiral Cirona mused, thoughtful.

Sulu arches his brows, unimpressed.

“Pavel and I are close friends. We spend a lot of time together, on and off duty. He’s teaching me Russian and I’m failing at teaching him Japanese. On shore leaves we normally go together, and we normally get smashed drunk at least once. He holds his liquor well, but he’s young and I’m overprotective, so when we go back to the ship I often let him crash in my quarters to make sure he goes through the night without trouble, or I crash in his. We’ve shared a bed. I’ve never touched him in anything but brotherhood.”

Chase nods her head, her eyes half-lidded.

“You misunderstand, Lt. Sulu,” Chase chides gently. “I’ve seen Kirk and Spock together. I have no doubt they are in a relationship. We called forth these audiences not to determine whether they are a couple, but rather to determine if being a couple affects their command abilities.”

Sulu is thrown off balance, momentarily panicked.

“Relax, Lt.,” Komack arches a brow. “Nobody expected anyone to follow the no-fraternization rule for five long years. That’s not our concern. We’re worried about the command of the ship.”

Sulu distrusts. They might be telling the truth, they might not. Maybe they’re just looking for a way to make him tread on a stick and make noise. He’s never heard about them not being concerned about Starfleet regulations before. They could be understanding. Or they could be setting him up to slip.

“I have no confirmation to say with any certainty that they are or not together,” he says firmly. He believes it’s about time they drew this audience to its end. McCoy, Chekov, Scotty and Giotto  are waiting outside for their turns.

Uhura was, of course, the first in line.

“You haven’t seen anything that would ascertain it?” Archer insists.

“Nothing.”

“And what do you believe?”

Sulu’s impatience flares. “I believe my personal observations and speculations are indeed personal, biased, and subjective, and can’t be trusted to paint a reliable picture of the situation. Nevertheless, you called me here to have them, and I have given them to you.”

He breathes in, closing his eyes, opening them again more calmly.

“Permission to speak freely, Admirals?”

A pause. Then, Chase waves her hand in invitation, interested.

“Admirals, the bottom of this matter for me is as follows,” he looked at each of them in turn, his black eyes like black velvet-covered steel. “I have no confirmation of whether they are a couple of not. My opinion on that is my own, and as it’s my opinion I will not share it. What you called me here for, though, is to ask me if I believed the possibility of them being together might pose a threat to the efficiency of their joined command of the Enterprise.”

He stops, sets his jaw.

“It doesn’t. Captain Kirk and Commander Spock are an outstanding command combination. They balance each other out. They complement one another. They work as a unit and as a remarkable one, might I add. If that’s your doubt, then as far as I’m concerned, you can lay it to rest. Captain Kirk and Commander Spock are nothing short of professional, brilliant, and efficient.”

He stops again, frowning.

“That’s if you’re asking me if a hypothetical relationship would endanger the ship due to lack of professionalism in their interactions in front of the crew or in moments of stress.”

He stiffens, “Unless you’re asking me if that relationship would endanger us merely by its nature and the gender of those involved. In which case, this is a completely different conversation.”

There is a hard, cold glint to his previously soft black eyes that the Admirals don’t fail to notice. Sulu seems like such a malleable man, but there’s steel like the blade of a sword beneath the pliant skin. This is the case, they have discovered, with most of the Enterprise crew. Kirk has created a new breed of officers altogether.

“No, Lt. Sulu,” Chase says softly, smiling. “That is not the case at all.”

There are two Admirals here that, to Sulu, look like they might disagree. Bigotry is apparently not one of the many undesirable traits that humanity has rid itself of in the last few centuries. Neither is racism.

There is another long moment of silence, and Sulu waits, standing straight and regal in front of the Admirals, like a rock in a stream. He will not be moved. He’s spoken his part, said his peace. He’s defended that which he feels he must defend.

“I believe that will be all, Lt. Sulu,” Admiral Komack says, thoughtful. “Thank you for your assistance in this matter. Of course, you understand what was discussed here is a confidential matter, and not to be discussed with anyone outside this room.”

Sulu nods.

He’s dismissed. He gives a formal salute, turns on his heels and head to the door. For a brief moment, he goes over everything he’s said, desperate to believe he hasn’t made any mistakes that will hurt anyone.

He thinks he hasn’t.

For the first time since he was a kid, Hikaru Sulu feels proud.